Chapter 61
Arwen wrinkled her nose at the view. Dull grey swathed the world, clouds shielded the sky and light snow trickled down across the land. She had spent the night convincing herself of her next endeavourâa bit of shoddy weather wouldn't stop her, but it would be a pain. Leaving the view, Arwen crossed the House to the main dining room where Azriel and Cassian were already eating.
"Morning," Azriel murmured in greeting. Cassian offered her a sharp wave of his fingers, cheeks puffed with food. Azriel glanced at the general, lips cracking apart with a sigh before looking back to her. "Five hundred years of living and he still hasn't learnt how to eat."
Arwen took the chair that left one between her and the spymaster, opposing Cassian who twisted his face into offence at the remark. Before she could pull a plate from the pile stacked in the middle of the short table, Azriel grabbed it for her. He silently worked to fill her plate.
Finally gulping down half of his meal, Cassian pointed his knife at the shadowsinger. "There are some things in life that you don't do in moderation. Eating is one of them. Never know when your next meal is going to be."
"Or your next fuck," Azriel uttered back, placing the plate down in front of Arwen, but his eyes were set on Cassian. Cassian stiffened and his eyes narrowed into a glare. "From my experience, you don't do that in moderation either once you start."
Arwen's hand paused on its reach for cutlery, alarmed at the unfitting conversation occurring over a morning meal. But, in a passing moment, she was glad that the attention had moved on from her.
Cassian ran his tongue between his lip and teeth, placing his knife next to his plate. "I thought we had this conversation yesterday. And agreed to not bring it back up."
She was missing a piece of the story, but Arwen had no intention to interrupt them. Cassian's sex life was not of her interest, and quite frankly, she tried to keep her interest out of Azriel's as well. She knew he had lovers over the decades, finding them in pleasure houses. He never met with them more than once.
Azriel did not reply, turning to look out of the far end of the open room and sip on his drink. Cassian gave a low snarl as he retook his knife. Eyes darting to Arwen, he nodded down to her plate. "Eat." Since they both seemed hell-bent on ignoring the tension that had just swallowed the room, Arwen did as ordered and continued her reach for a fork.
Shadows smoothed over her thigh. They curled around her flesh like a vine.
"Plans for the day?"
Arwen spent the next moment lathering her toast, feigning concentration to give her the time to build up the strength in her voice. "I want to go down to Velaris. Rhysand's birthday is soon and I need to buy him something."
They both looked at her, mirrors of surprise. "I'll take you down," Cassian said.
Arwen hadn't seen Rhysand since she destroyed Cassian's favourite sitting room. She wasn't sure if he was staying away to give her space, or because he needed space for himself. Either way, she was grateful for it. His name alone inflicted too many responses within her to be able to predict how she would react upon seeing him. If the anger would boil again. Maybe it would be the emptiness. Or maybe that would all shed way for the love she held for him. That despite all that happened, it hurt her to have been so helpless when he needed somebody.
It was like a soup with too many spices mixed in.
Cassian's speech to her yesterday had reminded Arwen of that part of herselfâher love of gifts. A part of her hoped that Rhysand would understand what it meant for her to give him something. That beyond her anger, beyond her refusals of his attempts to speak with her, he still meant enough to her.
An hour before midday, Arwen stood on the balcony, pulling her thick coat tighter around her front. She didn't know how Cassian was managing in his single jacket. He stretched and released his wings. They were still healing, but he assured her that he wanted to take her down and that he needed to strengthen them with the extra weight.
"Do I want to ask what that was at breakfast?"
He shot her a derisive smile. "Your mate is a prick is what happened."
"Is that what happened at training?" She would have thought Azriel would be the one to have the broken nose by the way the conversation that morning went, but Cassian had a stronghold on his indifference to whatever his brother thought of him.
The smile morphed into something softer, and truer. "Don't worry about it, princess. He'll get over himself."
He opened his arms and made a 'come-hither' flick with fingers from both hands. Arwen released a breath and stepped into his arms. She ran her hands over his shoulders, linking them behind his neck. She winced at the coarse outer fabric of his jacket over her palms so she kept them high to his neck and let her sleeves protect her forearms against the sickening feeling. Cassian bent and lifted her from the ground, his fingers indenting into her thigh and waist.
She smiled meekly. "Is this how you held Lucien when you brought him up the other week?" His face darkened and she smiled wider. "It can be quite an intimate experience."
"I'm more intimate with the mountains than that stupid High Fae," he growled as he stalked towards the balcony's edge. Arwen admired the stretch of his wings. She had missed this too. Flying.
"Well with how rough I know you are, I think the mountains are the only thing that could handle you." Arwen immediately pursed her lips as Cassian's bewildered stare jerked to her, the comical closeness of their faces making it so much more amusing. When her teeth couldn't clamp her lips any longer, they stretched into a lip-bitten grin. "Mor talks," she offered in explanation for her knowledge.
He blinked hard and forced his head back straight, shaking it slightly. "You all need to get a new topic of interest." With that, he took to the sky.
Arwen tightened her arms at the sudden movement, her stomach plummeting. Butâ
She was flying.
In over two hundred and fifty yearsâsixty to be preciseâshe had never once flown. When the tether pulled her and she released herself to its force, Arwen would dematerialise and reappear within the tether's boundaries. It was like winnowing... but not.
Despite the flurry of snow, Cassian flew smooth, a soft echo of wind in her ears with each beat of his wings. The wind stole the moisture from her lips and her cheeks stung in the frigidness.
It was over too soon. Cassian landed in a quiet lane that was an offshoot of one of the main streets, giving him plenty of room to land without a far walk to the shops. Arwen took her time stepping out of his arms, her ears twitching with the chatter of the people of the city. The cobblestone was still visible, but white had already sunk into the streams of trenches between each stone.
She shivered.
"It's so cold," she whinged, digging her hands into the depths of her coat's pockets. She hadn't felt such weather before, even in her prior life.
"It's because you've got no meat on your bones," Cassian informed her pointedly. He might have been right, but Arwen knew that it had more to do with her lack of feeling for so long. He threw his arm back over her shoulder, drawing her into the heat of his body. "What do you have in mind?"
"I have... No idea," she admitted. "I'll know it when I see it."
That was her thought as they walked onto the main street. It was busy, even for such a chilly, snow-capped day. A City of Night never sleeps, is what they say. Arwen looked into each shop, peering in through windows and across displays. Cassian pointed out a few, but she shook her head at them.
People were looking, she realised. At first she thought it was just at the sight of their general, who did have quite the presence to be noticed. But their eyes sat lower. On her. Many even stopped in their tracks, their lips parting and she could see the recognition slapping them in the face.
Arwen took a deep breath and set her head forward. They were allowed to stare, after all. She would too, seeing a walkking ghost. Eventually she pointed to a shop that sold an assortment of intricacies. Arwen took an interest in a range of candles that burned with a flame of every colour of the rainbowâbut it wasn't a gift for her brother. They moved on to another that sold fine accessories that fit Rhysand's taste. Nothing caught her eye, however.
As they turned back onto the street, Cassian groused, "I'm suddenly remembering how hard it was to shop with you."
Arwen flicked the fur-lined hood over her head. The snowfall had gotten heavier. "You never complained when you were the one getting the gift."
"Yeah, well..."
At his silence, Arwen twisted her shoulder to peer from under her hood at him. He grinned at her. She smiled back. Until she bumped hard into something. Someone. She stumbled for her footing and glanced behind her to find the culprit. A male Fae with a companion was also tipped to the side, finding his step. "Sorry," she said.
The male met her eyes, his own widening. "No, my fault." His gaze flickered to her left. To Cassian. He seemed too stunned to say anything more.
Arwen righted herself and reset her breathing. She had seen the male coming. He was laughing, distracted. And she just... Hadn't moved. It had become such instinct to just pass through them as a spirit when Rhysand dragged her into the city. The ring held no power in that realm. She fingered it, realising that it had prevented her from that habit.
"Arwen?"
Arwen shook her head. "Coming," she said, bundling her layers even tighter.
Cassian muttered something about food and she agreed to cross over to the Palace of Bone and Salt for something quick to eat rather than finding a place to sit like a cafe. One look at the sky told them they didn't want to stay in the city any longer than they had to.
Arwen's nose twitched as they began weaving through the centre of food. There were far more people here. People that had to leave the warmth of their homes for food against those who left for leisure shopping. Their scents clashed together and she found it suddenly hard to take them all in. On top of it, as people walked in and out of shops, the heavy fragrance of their foodstuff wafted through the street. She smelt meats of all kinds, breads and pastries, she smelt sweets, wine, and something bitter.
Arwen lifted her sleeve to her nose but it did little to block her Fae senses.
In her distraction, she knocked into a Fae, and another in her haste to not fall. They didn't dare say anything with one glance at who she was. Cassian paused the step ahead that he was at. Falling to his side, Arwen clasped her hand around his wrist.
Her neck twisted around, trying to identify and separate each scent that bombarded her nose. Her boot kicked a stone covered by the snow, sending her jerking forward but was caught by Cassian.
"You alright?
Arwen couldn't find her voice to answer. Her eyes kept shooting around and she pressed her arm firmly against her nose, twisting her body to fold into his side to avoid any more trips into people. Her throat let out an involuntary whimper.
Cassian pulled her away from the main market space and into the shadows of an alley. "Focus on me, sweetheart," he murmured. His hands pressed to either side of her head, covering her ears. It smothered her sense of hearing, and though it hadn't been her source of distress, it shut down one of her senses. It gave her more room to process the rest.
Arwen closed her eyes and leant her head against his chest. Her nose filled with the familiarity and simplicity of his scent, weaved with that of the cold sting of snow. Eventually she could lift her head away and peel her eyes open. Cassian dropped his hands from her head to her shoulders. "I'm alright," she told him, breathless and blinking away the snowflakes landing on her lashes. "I'm okay."
He offered to take her home, but she still hadn't gotten anything and didn't know if she'd find the courage in herself to come back anytime soon. The odours still hammered against her, but on a swift hunt, Cassian bought them both skewered lumps of meat drenched in some sort of sauce from a portable vendor, and they left that part of the city. Unable to finish hers, she gave the leftovers to Cassian to devour.
~
Arwen pressed herself against the front counter, watching the shopkeeper wrap a black box with a silver ribbon. The male, a fae with blue-grey skin, nodded to something behind them. "I hope this is all you need. That storm has come in," he said. "My brother says it'll last at least a night."
Cassian and Arwen glanced over their shoulders. Sure enough, through their hour-long search through the store, past the black and gold décor of the shopfront, the street had gone from being the scene of gentle snowfall to a hazy scene of white and grey. A snowstorm. "Are you going to get home alright," she asked the fae.
He smiled and pointed to the roof. "I live upstairs. I hope the pair of you get to shelter soon, though. That town house of yours is on the other side of the city, isn't it?"
Cassian leant against the counter with a grin. "Little storm won't trap us."
~
"Fucking storm." Cassian had to grip Arwen's arm to stop her from being pulled away by the storm's wind. He let out enough vulgar comments that she was certain he was beginning to make more up. The world was a whizz of white and grey with the odd speck of colour. There was no chance of Cassian flying them back up to the House and the shopkeeper had been rightâthe town house, their only other formal residence, was on the far side of town.
She had a death grip on her brother's gift.
"You think you could winnow us there?" he asked, near yelling to be heard over the blizzard.
She considered it, really, she did. "I... I don't know if I can," confessed Arwen. If she tried and failed, they could end up completely lost. Here at least they had an idea of where in the city they were. "How close do you think Amren's apartment is?" Cauldron, she couldn't feel her hands and her nose stung beyond belief.
"Not close enough," he grumbled, coming to a stop mid-street. He gestured with the hand not gripping her sleeve to shuffle closer to him. Arwen did so and his wing opened, the membrane rippling against the wind. He let it envelop her, forming a shield around her. "There's probably an inn nearby. Or maybe Rita's will still be open and she'll let us stay there until it's over."
The idea struck her. "What about Lucien?" she asked. "He said he has an apartment in this part of town."
Cassian glared into the air, his cheeks a stinging red. "I'd rather find a box to curl up in."
"Well I'll find you in the morning and see if you'll still defrost alive," she contended. "He's nearby, isn't he?"
He growled under his breath like a peeved predator but submitted to their circumstances and the best solution available. Arwen let him pull her along, growing to the point where she could no longer recognise the streets around her.
*Please note that when I originally wrote this I somehow got my seasons mixed around so it near mid-winter during Rhysand's birthday in November rather than late autumn and I am aware of the mix-up.*